Don’t Send in the Cavalry

Look at the words and images in your dreams carefully. Often what seems like nonsense at first glance can be deciphered if you look for puns and plays on words, and think about the possible alternate meanings of the images.
 
The Dream: The dream is set in a barren, hilly setting. I’m sitting with a group of people on a bleacher facing a valley formed by other hills. There’s a deep crevice between the hills. We hear the sound of hooves and see the cavalry approaching. Their uniforms are gray, and they seem antiquarian. They stop at the foot of our bleacher and begin to sing. Their leader faces us and we all sing with him. His name eludes me, and I decide to practice writing it. He is Major Paul Baurow, pronounced Bo-Ro. I practice spelling and pronouncing it. There are two letter combinations in his last name, both pronounced “oh” but spelled differently. When I address him I still can’t remember his last name and call him Major Paul.

There is a man in the group (not a soldier) I am attracted to. He seems to be attracted to me as well. At first my husband encourages me to go to an event with the man, then Clark seems to become suspicious. I say flippantly, “We’re going to have monkey sex.”

Interpretation: The deep crevice tells me I’m dealing with some sort of split, and the dream exposes a conflict between my independence from--and my submission to--societal restraints. The cavalry and Paul Baurow (pall bearer or politburo) represent societal coercion, which “palls” the spirit. They expect me to sing along with the group. The attractive man is the part of me that is not regimented, “not a soldier,” and that wants to be uncivilized and experience the freedom of the animal (monkey sex).  My husband (my other half) is divided, just like the split in the hill. One moment he is encouraging me, the next not.

The Beautiful Girl

Dreams often point out what is wrong in our lives, but they also can point out what’s right. In a world in which we are often encouraged not to think too well of ourselves, our dreams can let us know it’s okay to celebrate what’s good about us.

The Dream: I’m in a class. There is a beautiful girl sitting next to me. She is young and has curly, light brown hair. She is very petite, but well built. I wonder if she is rich. I know she lives in the city, but I wonder how she lives. Is she part of a rich family or married well? She puts on dark glasses and looks even more glamorous.

Interpretation: This dream seems to be a little gift, some encouragement. Many dream experts tell us that the people who populate our dreams are different aspects of ourselves. So with this dream I can ask, “What part of me is beautiful, self-confident, living in the world she loves, sexy, a little mysterious, well-cared for and full of potential?” Of course I don’t get off Scot free: since I’m in a class the dream is also telling me I still have something to learn.

Celery in the Garden

When you take the wrong path in life, your dreams will let you know.
The Dream: Giant celery stalks are growing around the borders in the garden. I feel dissatisfied with the garden.

Interpretation: My recent foray into a new painting style—with its different aims and sensibilities—has created a situation in which I feel as if I’m trying to please someone other than my own deepest self. I feel as if I have sold out (celery: sell-ery). This feeling is represented by my dissatisfaction with my garden, the symbol of the well-spring of my creativity and the sacred place of my soul.

The Ubiquitous Toilet Dream

Okay, dear reader, I think we know each other well enough by now that I can post something that reeks of the indelicate: a toilet dream. Sooner or later, I’ve heard, we all have one. This example shows how dreams can help us flush no longer relevant feelings.

The Dream: I’m with a group exiting a building when I realize I have to go to the toilet. We’re starting off on a journey, but I think I can slip away and rejoin the group before departure.

I find a ladies room nearby. The seat is up, and it is already filled with urine and toilet paper. Being in a hurry I add mine to the batch. I don’t think the overloaded toilet can flush. I’m surprised when the receptacle, which now appears over-sized, empties with a great whoosh of running water. I am relieved that it flushed.

Interpretation: Urine can stand for emotions that need to be expressed. Clearly, I’m overloaded with them. But the unconscious, which through dreams helps us purge useless emotional detritus, helps me out by supplying a great cleansing whoosh. My reaction (I’m relieved) tells me the dream process has done its work.

Overcoming the Past

Dreams can deal with painful material from the past, as I think this one does. Even without specifically remembering the event, the dream helps us resolve the issues involved.

The Dream: I’m out driving, trying to avoid a rough-looking neighborhood. I turn into a street with older buildings which look like one-story garages. It’s a poor neighborhood, but bright. I wonder if I’ve arrived in a scary part of town after all, but I see children, smiling and happy-looking, so I don’t feel threatened.  At the end of the street is a low house with a screened-in front porch.

I go in. I chat with the woman who lives here. She is middle-aged and I am younger. She has a tasty-looking dish on a sideboard. I try some and find out it’s made of squirrel. I think using squirrels for food might solve the problem I have with them eating the seed in my bird-feeder, and besides, it is delicious. But I wonder who will skin them.

There is a silver contraption on another sideboard. To my surprise, the woman pulls out a very long, sharp gleaming silver knife. I am uncomfortable with her standing there with this knife in her hand. “This belongs to the children,” she says.

Interpretation: I go into the past (a street with older buildings), where I feel threatened (the rough-looking neighborhood) and meet the woman in charge (the part of me still living with an old wound). She feeds me unusual and unexpected but delicious food. Besides nourishing me, this food might be a way to protect my offerings to my soul or spirit. Birds often represent both; and I want to safeguard my “bird-feeder” from the squirrels. But there is some ambivalence: eating the food, solving the soul problem, requires skinning the animal (exposing my vulnerability?)

The woman surprises me by pulling a knife out of an old wound (silver can represent the past, tarnished and/or precious). At first I find her possession of this knife threatening, but she diffuses its power by saying it belongs to the children. Perhaps she is hinting that children caused the painful event in the past. However, the children in the dream are not threatening, signaling I’ve moved on.

Spark of the Divine

We are used to the idea that dreams are a part of ourselves, even when the characters and their actions appear alien. After all, our brains produce our dreams. It’s harder to feel as if a dream comes from within when it seems to be giving us an “otherworldly” message like this very short one.

The Dream: A voice says, “Human beings have a spark of the divine.”

Interpretation: I am ready to look for my own inner spirituality.

Working on Your Dreams: Step 3 – Interpret

So, you’ve started to remember your dreams and you’re keeping a journal. You’d like to be able to ferret some meaning out of this mysterious material. Where to start? A book that I found very helpful when I was beginning the decoding process is a slim volume by Robert A. Johnson called Inner Work. He suggests that you make a list of the important words in your dream and then write down what you associate with each word. This is different from free association, which goes something like this: cat, hair, allergies, sneeze, got a cold, stayed home from school. The direct association chain goes like this: cat, hair; cat, catty; cat, green eyed; cat, Halloween. So, for each important word in the dream you make a list of words that are directly conjured by the dream word. As you write this list, you’ll notice that you feel a little surge of excitement around some of the associations, and that tells you that you are getting close to what the word means in your dream.
 
We live in a world that worships speed, but deciphering a dream is often a slow process. Be patient. You’ll be surprised at what you can learn, and the things you learn will gradually transform your life. In working with your dreams you are working with your essential self, and sometimes that’s an essential self that has yet to be discovered.

For some excellent and sensible information for beginning dream workers start with  Jeremy Taylor's Dream Work

Dream dictionaries are fun and tempting, but most are downright silly. Tony Crisp, however, has worked with dreams for many years and compiled suggested “definitions” based on the dream experiences of many people. His dictionary suggests alternate possibilities for most dream images and can jump start the deciphering process. Tony Crisp's Dream Dictionary

For some good material on the importance of the dreamer as the ultimate interpreter of his dream and an interesting take on Carl Jung—not entirely sympathetic—see Gayle Delaney’s Carl Jung, Dreams, and the Sexes

If you would like an introduction to people working professionally with dreams, Anne Hill interviews many on Dream Talk Radio